


blink and you'll miss it

by aelias



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-04-27 08:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5041264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelias/pseuds/aelias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The small moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. tea time

**Author's Note:**

> A collection of 100 word drabbles written for TheCarylDaily Weekly Drabble Prompts over on Tumblr. I know they're short, but it has been eons since I've written fanfiction, and I thought I'd try to get my feet wet with these little bits before diving right in. Word prompt is "warmth." Hopefully you'll enjoy. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. TWD is the property of Robert Kirkman/AMC, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

 

Despite the mug of tea in her hands, her fingers are chilled. Carol unwraps one of her hands from the ceramic, curls and uncurls her digits, feels the joints  _pop pop popping_  in the empty living room. She rubs the tops of her feet through thick socks, trying to heat up her cold toes.

Daryl walks in then, stamping snow off his boots, and offers her a gentle nod and smile.

"Welcome home," she says. Lips curling up behind the rim of her mug, she takes her first sip, the liquid warming her from the inside out.


	2. to feel is to fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one! This week's word prompt: "hurt". Hope you like! :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. TWD is the property of Robert Kirkman/AMC, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

 

Carol refused to let herself feel the many losses she had endured. She couldn’t. She _wouldn’t_. There was no time to be given to selfish, quiet cries.

 But when it finally happened, bursting out like a break in the dam, it was neither selfish, nor quiet, nor crying. It was selfless, it was loud, it was wailing into cupped hands, and when she fell, Daryl was at her side with an arm around her shoulder, a hand on her elbow, and a whispered “Don’t let this hurt you” in her ear as he followed her on the way down.

 


	3. in the space between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's prompt: "distance". Hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. TWD is the property of Robert Kirkman/AMC, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

 

* * *

 

In his dream, he's standing at the edge of a yawning, stone valley. It's filled with thousands of walkers, a rippling tide of gray and decay.

 Across from him, on the other side, he sees Carol, standing just like him, but with her hand outstretched and a gentle curve on her lips. "I'm here, Daryl," she says, and when he reaches forward, their immeasurable distance is shortened to the space between a breath. He inhales, deeply, and is full of her.

 Daryl opens his eyes.


	4. the morning after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt this week is "sleep." I'm not too happy with this one, but I hope you enjoy anyway.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. TWD is the property of Robert Kirkman/AMC, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

Carol slept with her mouth closed firmly, almost to the point of grinding her teeth. Her eyebrows were smoothed, laugh and worry lines still present but evened out. Her eyelashes twitched in time with the rapid movement beneath her eyelids.

Due to his recruitment job, the mornings where Daryl got to notice these details were few and far between, so he traced softly down her slim nose and around her soft lips, memorizing her face for the days when he couldn’t wake up next to her.

 


	5. i can see through the scars inside you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt is "secret." Title is taken from the song "Cirice" by Ghost B.C. (which everyone should go listen to :p).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. TWD is the property of Robert Kirkman/AMC, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

It was early, the cerulean blue of dawn, and there was time for Carol to wash up. Time just for her. The Carol hours.

She watched her shoes carry her down to the quarry bed, and noticed the younger Dixon brother kneeling at the water’s edge, cleaning his bolts. He looked up, caught her gaze, and she remembered the black shining spot high on her cheek and the tiny cut at the corner of her lip.

She saw her secret in his eyes before he politely looked away.

 


	6. my soul is all aquiver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's prompt: "shiver". Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. TWD is the property of Robert Kirkman/AMC, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

His muscles tremble beneath his skin, dancing and vibrating with terrifying excitement. He wonders if she can feel it, with her hand on his arm and her fingers in his hair.

The shiver starts at the base of his spine and crawls slowly up his back, tingling all along the way. Carol presses the softest kiss to his chapped, dry lips, the pressure so light and weightless it’s like kissing an angel. 

Daryl feels the wings on his vest open and expand. His heart takes flight.

 


	7. all i see is red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like these have gotten worse and worse, but I hope you like them anyway. This week's prompt: "anger"

* * *

“I’m okay. Go,  _go_.”

Her voice quakes even as she firms her feet and moves to stand, slowly, gingerly, but moving all the same, and Daryl can only spare a second of admiration before he’s turning away from her, his hand trailing across her back, her shoulder blade, down her arm and to her fingertips. Then he’s running down the hall, and when he reaches the end, he drops his pack and body slams the kid into the bookshelf. It pins the boy down, and that’s where he’ll stay.  _He doesn’t get to walk away_.


	8. lay me down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "blanket".

* * *

It was patched and worn. Its coloring had faded. It still held the earthy, musty scent of wet hay.

The coarse material scratched her skin, and Carol knew she would have rashes in the morning. But wrapped up in Daryl’s poncho, wrapped up in _Daryl_ , bare back to bare chest, she couldn’t bring herself to mind. There was no warmer blanket in existence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my shortest one so far, but I hope you like it anyway.


	9. in bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "mistletoe"

* * *

He wasn’t one to believe in signs, or symbols, or messages from the universe. He found the Cherokee Rose, a sign that Sophia was alive, a symbol of a mother’s love, and he presented it to Carol with the message that he would bring her daughter home. And when it all turned out to be false, Daryl stopped putting his faith in those kinds of things.

But the mistletoe growing on the tree outside Alexandria’s walls, on a tree completely bare except for the berry plant, made him wish for a cracked beer bottle and a tearful smile and a sign that it was okay to start believing in hope again.

 


	10. look at me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "urge"

* * *

When they come, they’re not silent. They’re growling, hissing, gasping, making their way through Alexandria’s streets, around corners, in between white houses, on a never-ending search for warm flesh and hot blood to sink their teeth into.

When they come, Carol and Daryl are silent. They stand still as statues, immovable, mouths flatlining, watching the gray mass roll through the town like a storm. 

Carol shifts only her eyes and looks at Daryl. Finds him staring at her, an urgency in his gaze that straightens her spine and warms her belly. 

If they don’t make it out of this, at least his face will be the last thing she sees.

 


	11. silver lanes aglow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is late, but I hope you enjoy anyway. Prompt: "Christmas"

* * *

Like the lightest of blankets, the snow falls in slow swirls, draping Alexandria in a white sheet. 

Carol stands on the porch, watching Judith hold tight to Carl’s hands as they make their way through the glittering powder, tiny, purple booted feet stumbling after heavy brown ones. 

She feels him approach her from behind, moving to stand beside her until their shoulders and elbows are touching. “Lookin’ a lot like Christmas out here.”

A snowflake catches on his eyelash, and she kisses it away. “Yes,” she says, “it is.”


End file.
